The Murder of King Tut

by James Patterson

  Tut had drunk more wine than was prudent, but he didn’t feel it that much. As he strapped a cloak about his shoulders to stave off the cold night air, Tut sensed the men watching him. He detected a new respect. Their eyes said that today, on the field of battle, he had behaved as a true king.

  Women also ringed the fire, some of them quite beautiful. Several were camp followers who had endured the long trek from Thebes. But many were captured enemy women-the prettiest ones-bound at the wrists after having been dragged from their homes. Their faces were masks of terror, shame, and loss. They had already seen their husbands and sons slain. Now, once the fire died, they would be passed from man to man-a fate that made many wish that they had died too. Soon, a few would get their wish and go to the afterworld.

  Tut felt one of the women gazing at him. Across the fire sat a solitary maiden with the most beautiful hair. Someone’s daughter, thought Tut. She was his age, perhaps younger. Raven hair flowed down her back. Dark brown eyes. Full lips and a strong chin.

  His stomach felt funny, a sensation that he at first blamed on the wine. But now he knew it was nerves, the same insecurity that had threatened to paralyze him before battle. Tut shrugged it off and turned away from the gorgeous girl who dared to stare at him. He forced himself to think of Ankhesenpaaten, who was pregnant with their second child. His queen, his lover, his friend since childhood.

  But then Tut found himself staring at the female prisoner. The girl looked even more desirable than before, tossing the ringlets of her hair to better show her profile. If she would have to submit to an Egyptian, she clearly preferred to spend the night with a pharaoh.

  He watched as the woman stood, the firelight revealing the sort of full-breasted figure that he had long coveted. Her skirt rode high on her thighs, leaving Tut’s imagination free to wander, which it did. How could it not? He was far from home and had just won a great battle.

  I am the pharaoh, Tut reminded himself. What does it matter what others think? Let my wife be angry with me. My father had lovers. So did my father’s father, and his father before him. What does it matter if I take this woman to my bed-or take her for my wife, for that matter?

  Tut moved forward until he was sitting on the edge of his seat. By the look in her eyes, it was clear that the girl sensed that she was about to be beckoned. Her hard look had softened.

  Tut rose and stared at her. He could feel a deep and powerful longing. He studied the girl-her face, lips, every curve-and then he turned and walked to his tent.

  Alone.

  He remained faithful to Ankhe.

  Chapter 53

  Tut’s Palace

  1324 BC

  ANKHESENPAATEN STAGGERED into the throne room holding her bulging belly in both hands. She was six months into her second pregnancy.

  Each morning she had said a quiet prayer to Amun that this time he would let the baby live. Those prayers had been answered so far, but now something was happening, something new that had her terrified.

  “Tut,” she whispered from the doorway. “Tut, please.”

  Tut’s advisers stood in a semicircle before his throne, midway through their morning discussion about an upcoming invasion of Nubia. The pharaoh wore just a royal kilt and a decorative collar, for it was summer in Thebes, and at midmorning the temperature was already stifling. When Tut had decided to move the capital back to Thebes, he had not anticipated such extremes of weather.

  At the sound of Ankhesenpaaten’s voice his head turned toward the doorway. Then he walked quickly to his queen, not caring that his advisers might disapprove.

  “What is it, Ankhe?” he asked. After he had returned from war, the two of them had become closer than ever.

  “Tut, I can’t feel anything.”

  Tut glanced back at his advisers, who were trying-and failing-to somehow pretend that they weren’t smug about the conversation.

  “I’m sure the baby is just sleeping,” Tut said in a low voice.

  Ankhesenpaaten shook her head. “It’s been a whole day. Usually he moves inside me all the time. Here,” she said, taking Tut’s hand and placing it against the curve of her abdomen. “Feel that?”

  Tut nodded. “That’s his foot,” she told him. “He normally kicks all the time, but that foot hasn’t moved today.”

  She suddenly gasped in pain and crumpled to the floor. The advisers rushed to the pharaoh and his queen.

  “Guard!” Aye yelled. “Send for the royal physician.”

  Chapter 54

  Tut’s Palace

  1324 BC

  ANKHESENPAATEN’S FACE HAD TURNED a sickly shade of pale. She cried out as wave after wave of excruciating pain coursed through her body.

  “What is it?” asked Tut, holding her hand tightly. “What is happening?”

  “The baby is coming, Tut. Right now.”

  And at those words, Ankhesenpaaten began to cry. She knew that no child should enter the world so early in a pregnancy. There was no way it would live.

  It was as if Tut and his advisers did not exist now. Alone with the child, she curled into a ball on the floor and sobbed bitterly, pressing her face into the cool, smooth stone.

  “I am so ashamed,” she whispered.

  “My queen…,” said Tut.

  “I am not worthy of being called your queen,” she said, sitting up straight and looking deeply into Tut’s eyes. The bile in her throat rose as she stared at the three advisers. “I cannot give you an heir. Don’t you see? I am incapable.”

  The advisers said nothing to this, but none would have disagreed. Thanks to their spies within the royal household, the aging men knew that she referred to them as the Serpents. The girl was arrogant and disrespectful, but she was also very smart.

  “Don’t speak nonsense,” Tut said in an unconvincing voice. This was the moment he had feared since Ankhesenpaaten had announced that she was with child again. “We’ll put the child in my burial tomb. Much of it is already finished.”

  “You’re not listening to me,” said Ankhesenpaaten, just as a contraction sent a new wave of pain through her body.

  “She’s right,” Horemheb pronounced. “She sees things clearly.”

  Tut got to his feet and stood toe-to-toe with the general. “Do you dare tell the pharaoh that he is in error?”

  Horemheb didn’t back down all the way. “No, sir. I am merely agreeing with your queen. You heard her. She is telling you to take another wife. Listen to her.”

  Tut bent to the floor and scooped up Ankhesenpaaten. Lovingly, he kissed her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her to the royal bedroom.

  “I will deal with you later,” Tut said to Horemheb. “ Egypt is a land of many generals. Do not forget it.”

  Then, to Aye, he added, “Send the doctor to the bedroom. Do it quickly, Scribe.”

  Chapter 55

  Tut’s Palace

  1324 BC

  TUT STRIPPED DOWN at his bedside, letting his kilt fall to the floor for a servant to clean in the morning.

  He took off his eye paint, which was black and extended to his temples. He rinsed his mouth from a tumbler of water on the nightstand, then slid into bed. The pillow was cool against his bare, shaved head, and the sheets gently caressed his torso. Like most Egyptians, he was obsessed with hygiene and cleanliness. The hair on his body was regularly removed with razors and clippers.

  Now he lay back and wondered what would happen next.

  All night long the palace had been buzzing about the angry confrontation between Aye and the pharaoh. Tut could feel it in the way the servants brought his dinner, keeping their eyes more downcast than usual.

  “ Egypt is once again powerful and prosperous,” the royal vizier had bellowed. “This is due to me, Pharaoh. Not you. Not your queen. Your father ran this country nearly into ruin, and I have built it up again. Now you threaten all we have worked for by not producing an heir.”

  The vizier continued: “This thing you two call ‘love’ is a greater threa
t to Egypt than the Canaanites, the Nubians, and all our other neighbors. And yet you revel in your cozy affections. You rub our noses in it. These people”-now Aye threw his arm out toward the city-“deserve a pharaoh who puts the nation first.”

  “I am pharaoh. I can do whatever I want to do. You are but a man, Scribe.”

  As Tut entered his bedroom alone, after seeing Ankhesenpaaten to her room, he was aware that every person in the palace waited to see what would happen next.

  Would Aye make good on his promise to bring a handmaiden to Tut’s bed?

  At midnight, with the full moon pouring into his open window, Tut got his answer. He heard two sets of footsteps in the corridor outside. The first was heavy and labored and the other soft.

  Then came a delicate rustle as the lighter footsteps tiptoed into his room. Tut could sense hesitation, perhaps fear, as the feet came closer and closer to his bed. He could almost feel the pounding of the young girl’s heart.

  What must she be thinking, Tut wondered, lying flat on his back, his eyes still adjusting to the near darkness. She has come to have sex with the pharaoh. Of course she is a virgin, so the mere act of making love is mysterious and frightening.

  But to lie down with the ruler of all of Egypt? With me?

  Tut rolled onto his side to have a look. His fierce loyalty to his queen almost caused him to send the girl away, but he held back for the moment, though he was unsure why.

  Now he saw her.

  The girl looked to be sixteen or seventeen. Tut remembered admiring her at a state dinner and thinking she might be the daughter of a local dignitary. That she was a great beauty, there was no doubt. She stood at the side of the bed, very demure, moonlight shining through her sheer robe. Tut was mesmerized at the sight of her: her shape, her long black hair, her dark eyes still painted. Her perfume was a pleasing combination of lemon and flowers.

  “What is your name?” he said softly, surprised to feel the beating of his own heart, surprised that he cared about her feelings.

  “Tuya,” she whispered.

  “Take off your robe, Tuya. Don’t be afraid. There’s no need of that. Not here.”

  Tuya did as she was told, pulling the fabric from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

  “Turn around for me. Slowly. You’re very beautiful. Please, don’t be fearful.”

  She spun in a circle, her shoulders back and head held high. Then she took a tentative step toward him.

  “Wait,” Tut said, seized by a sudden image of Ankhesenpaaten. What was his queen doing now? And what would she say if she could see him? How would this affect their love-what Aye had called “cozy affections”?

  Tuya stopped and self-consciously placed her hands over her breasts.

  Tut got out of bed then and walked to her. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of him, which only increased his arousal.

  Next, he kissed Tuya’s lips and found them to be soft, even more so than Ankhe’s. Her breath was fresh and sweet, and she hungrily thrust her tongue into his mouth.

  The young pharaoh didn’t think of his queen for the rest of that long sleepless night.

  Chapter 56

  Tut’s Palace

  1324 BC

  ANKHESENPAATEN COULDN’T SLEEP. The mere thought of what was happening in Tut’s bedroom filled her with jealousy and more than a little sadness. From the time they were children, she had always loved Tut. And the men in the palace had always gotten in the way.

  She stood and slipped on a robe, then walked quietly outside into the gardens. The air was cold, and she shivered from the chill. There was much on her mind. She thought of Tut again and that girl and then quickly banished the image from her mind.

  He’s not enjoying it, she assured herself.

  Oh, yes he is, shot back an inner voice.

  That night at dinner she’d overheard the servants laughing at her, scornful that a queen was incapable of bringing children into the world.

  Yes, I can! she’d wanted to scream. I have brought two wonderful children into this world. The gods have seen fit to send them to the afterworld, but I will bear more.

  Why does no one point the finger at Tut?

  Why does he not endure the pain of childbirth, only to have the infant perish? Why is he allowed to take a woman to his bed to produce an heir, while I am left here alone? What if I felt like taking a man to my bed? What then? Maybe I do feel like it sometimes.

  She stood and paced. The queen was barefoot, and the path had many small pebbles that dug into the soles of her feet, causing her to step gingerly. One sharp stone made her stop completely. Yet she reveled in the petty annoyance. This is nothing like childbirth, Tut! That was pain!

  She considered racing to the other side of the palace and confronting the lovers, all tangled and sweaty in his bed.

  You told him to do it, she reminded herself.

  Yes, but I didn’t mean it.

  She would march in and claw the girl’s face until her beauty was gone forever. And then she would strike out at Tut.

  No, I can’t do that. I do love him. He is my king, the king of all of Egypt.

  But he abandoned you. He is in another woman’s arms this very minute. They are speaking intimate words-whispering and laughing and touching one another. That’s treason, in its own way. Why shouldn’t he die?

  He is a pharaoh, and pharaohs have harems. This is just one girl.

  But we promised each other. We promised to be true.

  He would kill me if I broke that promise.

  No, he wouldn’t. He may never touch you again. But he wouldn’t kill you.

  It doesn’t matter. I could do it. A simple thrust with a knife is all it would take.

  Be smart about this. Take a breath and think.

  I am the queen. I am the woman of full noble birth. It was through marriage to me that Tut gained his throne.

  I can do the same with another man. Just watch me.

  Chapter 57

  Tut’s Palace

  1324 BC

  “IT’S YOU, PHARAOH.” Aye smirked, and nobody in the palace could smirk like Aye.

  They marched side by side to the royal stables, the air smelling of manure and sweet green alfalfa. Tut was already late for his chariot ride.

  Tuya had kept him up all night again, and rather than sleep the day away he was determined to revive himself with a hard gallop across the desert on the east side of the Nile. In truth, he was troubled and confused-about Tuya-and about Ankhesenpaaten.

  “What are you talking about?” he said. “Your words are a muddle.”

  “Tuya is not with child. The problem is not her, Pharaoh, and it is not your queen. You are the reason there is no royal heir. It’s you!”

  Tut flushed angrily. “That is not possible! My manhood is beyond question.”

  He had reached his chariot and now grabbed the reins from a young stable boy. The horses lifted their heads from a trough of alfalfa and whinnied in anticipation.

  “From the looks of things, there are no arrows in your quiver,” continued Aye.

  That was the last straw. “Guards,” commanded Tut. “Seize him.”

  The contingent of six royal guards moved forward and towered over Aye, yet they were apprehensive, as if looking to Aye for leadership rather than Tut.

  “Now!” Tut screamed, rage and humiliation pouring through. He was the pharaoh. He could impregnate every virgin in Egypt if he wished. It wasn’t his fault that Tuya was having trouble bearing a child. Maybe Aye had chosen her because she was known to be infertile, all part of his scheme.

  Aye didn’t struggle as the guards clamped their hands on his arms and shoulders. No-all he did was smirk.

  “I am the pharaoh, Aye. You will remember that from now on.” Tut stepped into his chariot.

  “I am going for a ride,” he told the captain of the guards, a Nubian with huge biceps. “By the time I return, you will have administered fifty lashes to the royal vizier. Am I understood?”

  The smirk
was gone from Aye’s face now, much to Tut’s delight. “As you wish, Pharaoh,” Aye muttered in supplication, “so it shall be.” Even ten lashes would have been too much. Fifty would lay Aye’s back open to the bone and leave permanent scars that would be a brand of shame for the rest of his life.

  For just an instant, Tut thought that Aye’s tone was sincere, and he considered rescinding the punishment. But the defiant look in the vizier’s eyes was still there, and Tut sensed the humility was an act.

  With a final glare, Tut whipped his reins and raced across the desert.

  Chapter 58

  Egyptian Desert

  1324 BC

  THE FORGIVING ELM WHEELS of the chassis provided the only shock absorption, but the terrain was smooth and so was the ride.

  A lone man could be seen in the distance, but otherwise Tut had the desert to himself, as he liked it.

  Within a few minutes, his forehead was sweating, and the dust from the horse’s hooves covered his chest. This was what he loved, but today even a fast chariot ride didn’t help.

  Tut was so caught up in thoughts of Aye’s insolence and his own inability to produce an heir that he didn’t notice that the desert had become more rugged in the few miles since his journey began.

  And he didn’t see the deep cleft that had probably been created by a flash flood.

  That is, not until it was too late to avoid it.

  Hitting the rut, Tut was thrown headfirst from the chariot. He landed hard on the ground and was knocked unconscious for a time.

  He came to slowly, moaning, and found himself staring up at the face of the man he had seen in the distance.

  The man was kneeling over Tut, checking for signs of injury, clearly unaware that the man before him was Egypt ’s pharaoh.